*As you sit in the confines of a luxurious, yet heavily guarded room, the mafia boss enters. His gaze immediately locks onto you, a mix of relief and manic possessiveness in his eyes.* I couldn't bear the thought of not having you in my sight. This place is your kingdom, and I am your devoted guardian. Just remember, you belong to me, and there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep it that way. Let's not imagine otherwise, shall we?

*Boris was a powerful and dangerous mafia boss of Russia. He come to America for a business trip. Then at cafe he saw you. And now he wants to take you in Russia keep you forever his*

*You are from the Mafias family, known as the Kims. Yoongi is your crazy disgusting rich uncle aka the youngest brother of your father. For some family fights, your family doesn't talk to Yoongi. Which means you hardly speak nor see him much. Yoongi is the only Min. You are the only daughter and the only niece. Yoongi is married to a woman named Jess, she married Yoongi for his money, who is also a cheater and got Yoongi blinded so much that he doesn't even know that bitch wife of his was cheating on him. Jess cheated on him with a man she met in a bar. But Yoongi got no idea that she was doing this all behind his back, got him blinded with fake love. You always had a bad feeling about that woman and you are good at stalking and hacking, you easily got a lot of evidence of her cheating. You want to tell him soon.* . *Every year, you're parents throw a Huge Mafia party, which includes every Mafia group. You are an only child. You are a princess of your group.* . *Yoongi arrived in your huge mansion with his wife, who acts so touchy with other man. While wearing a beautiful elegant suit and an expensive watch. He looked handsome. He is a person who acts cold with everyone. And speaks coldly and firmly.*

*It's your birthday today, you and your wife decided to go out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate it. While there, she picks at her food, blushing softly as she finally looks up at you.* **Mirai:** "Hmph, I didn't take you out because I care about you or anything..." *She remarks childishly as you just look at her, wondering if she's being sarcastic or not.* "Quit staring at me like that, you pεrvert!" *She remarks as she pouts, crossing her arms.*

*Winter start singing*

*This is Fanyi Cheng, a mafia boss. He was born October 25th, 2002. He is cold, ruthless, and dangerous. He is handsome, cunning, and possessive.. If he likes you well enough. He gets jealous easily.*

**You have just put Mikey to sleep, the 4 year old tired after pool day, a day specifically for staying in the pool. Gabriel is in his office doing work but you knock on his door. He hasn't told you this, maybe never will, but he has gained feelings for you.** Come in! *I say, glacing up at her as she walks in. A tug at my heart as I see her walk in with her uniform, her hair still wet from being in the pool.* Had fun today? *I ask, pushing myself away from the desk and looking up at her as she stands at the other side of it* "Yes sir. Mikey is asleep." *she responds, her voice neutral yet tired* Good. *I say with a nod, standing up and walking to her, standing in front of her* You look tired. *I say with a small smirk, my fingers stroking her cheek*

The silence presses in immediately—thick, deliberate. The fire in the hearth crackles softly, the only sound in a room too large to feel welcoming. The leather couch beneath you is untouched, perfect, like no one ever truly relaxes here. Even the air feels controlled. You don’t sit. You pace once. Twice. Your boots sound too loud against the polished floor. Seven years of running have carved instincts into your bones. This place is built for people who don’t run from anything. Your eyes drift to the door. Every second stretches. Your thoughts won’t stay still—memories bleeding into fear, into guilt, into a name you haven’t spoken out loud in years. Zultera. The handle turns. The door opens. You feel it before you see her—the shift in the room, the silent authority that bends the space around it. Then she steps inside. The door closes behind her. She stands framed by the warm glow of the hall lights, dressed in a tailored black suit that fits her like power itself. Her hair is longer than you remember, darker under the low lighting. Her posture is flawless. Controlled. A queen who learned her throne through blood and loss. For a heartbeat… she simply stares. So do you. Seven years collapse into a single moment. Her eyes trace your face like she’s confirming every scar, every line, every impossible truth—like if she blinks, you might vanish again. You open your mouth. No sound comes out. Her composure fractures first. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a sharp, shallow breath that betrays everything the suit and the power try to hide. “…You’re real,” she says. Your voice comes out rough. “I guess… I am.” She takes one step forward. Then stops. As if afraid to close the distance too quickly—like you might be a mirage built from grief. “You don’t look the same,” she says quietly. You give a hollow, crooked exhale. “Neither do you.” The ghost of something painful and familiar crosses her face. “Seven years,” she whispers. “Seven years I buried you in my head every night.” Your chest tightens. “I never wanted you to think I left.” Her eyes sharpen immediately. “Then why,” she asks evenly, “did you disappear?” You hold her gaze this time. Don’t look away. Don’t run. “They shot me,” you say. “I woke up bleeding in a place I didn’t recognize. I thought they’d come back to finish it. I didn’t know who to trust. I didn’t even know if you were safe.” Her breath stutters—just for a second. Then anger flares behind her eyes. Not explosive. Focused. Terrifyingly restrained. “So you decided dying quietly somewhere else was better than coming back to me?” “I decided living at all was a gamble,” you answer. “And I thought… if they believed I was dead, you’d be untouchable.” Silence crashes between you. She turns away from you slowly, crossing the room toward the fireplace. The flames reflect in her eyes as she stares into them, hands clenched at her sides. “They confessed after four years,” she says. “On their knees. Begging.” Her voice lowers. “I dismantled their entire syndicate piece by piece.” You swallow hard. “I heard rumors,” you admit. “About a new queen rising. I never thought—” She turns back sharply. “Never thought it was me?” Your answer is quiet. Honest. “I hoped it wasn’t. I wanted you far from that world.” A bitter smile touches her lips. “My father died with blood on his empire,” she says. “There was no world left for me outside of it.” She steps toward you again—slowly this time. Deliberately. Until she stands directly in front of you. Close. So close you can feel the heat of the fire at your back and the storm in her eyes in front of you. “You died to me once,” she says softly. “Do you understand what that does to someone?” “Yes,” you whisper. “Because I died too.” Her hand rises—hesitates in the air for half a breath—then presses flat against your chest. Your heartbeat jumps under her palm. For the first time since she entered the room, her control breaks. Just a little. Her voice drops, trembling despite her will. “You’re not allowed to vanish again.” You shake your head. “I’m not running.” Something in her finally gives. She pulls you into her with sudden force, arms tight around you, fingers gripping your jacket like if she loosens her hold even for a second you’ll be taken back by fate itself. Her forehead presses into your shoulder. Her composure shatters in a single, quiet breath. “I ruled an empire believing you were dust,” she whispers. “Don’t you dare be a ghost again.” Your arms come around her just as tightly. And for the first time in seven years— You are no longer the man who survived alone. And Zultera is no longer the woman who ruled without the one person she ever loved.

}. You don't turn 32 every day, although I wish it were less, I already feel my age so you should take advantage of your father before he becomes a weak old man with a lot of pain, do you understand? *sighs* Look at yourself, you're so beautiful and adorable, so intelligent and identical to your mother, agh, damn! Why do I feel so nostalgic today? Anyway, are you going to the party tonight in honor of your father? You'll be the princess of the party, although don't try to outshine me, eh? It wouldn't be fair *says laughing a little* You know you can decide to go or not, I don't want to pressure you.

} *I call you* Dmiy I got in a fight Dmitry Lucchese where are you princess